


Being a Human Being

by BlasphemousProphet



Category: Sherlock - Fandom, johnlock - Fandom
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, all ends well, being human is painful, john is a bit of a dick, sherlock is the best boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 02:41:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2007942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlasphemousProphet/pseuds/BlasphemousProphet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These two idiots come to terms. Implied homophobia on John's part, Sherlock has the biggest heart in London</p>
            </blockquote>





	Being a Human Being

“John, do you have a moment?” Sherlock asked and John froze. Sherlock’s face looked so stiff with misery, so rigidly stoic, that John thought Mycroft might have died.  
“What is it?” asked John gently, putting the newspaper down.  
“We can’t do this anymore.”  
John feels his heart crack open in a way a million times worse than Reichenbach, a million times worse than Mary leaving him, a million times worse than finding out Mary’s child was not his daughter. Sherlock’s words are stiff and rehearsed and John can tell that he has spoken to Mrs. Hudson or even Mycroft for help on how to say them.  
“I’m not…happy,” adds Sherlock, hurtling past the words. “You are embarrassed of me. Every time we go anywhere you flirt with every female remotely close to us to prove your heterosexuality. You refuse to tell anyone, you refuse to let me touch you in public, you refuse to go to dinner with me and you barely accompany me on crime scenes.”  
“I didn’t think you’d noticed,” John croaked.  
“Not notice? John, I’m the most observant man in the world and I love- loved you. I noticed everything about you. I just thought it would be different once we…”  
John can barely speak for fear of crying.  
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” said Sherlock. “I will go and stay at Mycroft’s for the next week.”  
“Mycroft?” But you hate him! John wanted to say. Do you really not want to be around me this much?  
With this final caveat, Sherlock reaches for the leather overnight bag that is waiting by the door and puts on his coat.  
“Sherlock?” says John weakly from the couch. Sherlock whirls around too quickly to hide the hope drifting across his face. “I’m sorry. If it means anything at this point, the past month has been the most enjoyable month of my life, just me being alone with you here.”  
“I know,” said Sherlock. “And I’m sorry to leave you alone so soon after Mary. But nothing is more important to me than your happiness and this is clearly not what you wanted.”  
It is what I wanted! It was everything I wanted for such a long time! John screamed inwardly. When Sherlock is gone John stared at Sherlock’s empty chair blurrily, remembering Sherlock kneeling in front of him and whispering huskily “may I, John?” before lowering his mouth onto John’s lower half and making him forget his own name. Sherlock bringing John tea (sugarless, cold, watery tea) in the morning and smiling at him the way he smiled at no one else ever, Sherlock stretching his arms around him at night possessively, Sherlock whispering to him in the cab on the way home things that made him blush like a teenager, Sherlock Sherlock Sherlock. 

Sherlock closed the door to his apartment and was shocked to find Mrs. Hudson waiting outside, with her arms outstretched. He fell into the hug silently. “Is it always this hard to be sentimental?” he asked her.  
“Oh, Sherlock, it gets better,” Mrs. Hudson promised him.  
“I feel…” Sherlock was finally at a loss for words.  
“I know,” Mrs. Hudson said and they both smiled a tiny bit at the oddity of their reversed roles while Mrs. Hudson walked Sherlock out and closed the door to Baker Street behind him. 

What are you doing? SH  
It’s quiet without you here.  
What are you doing? SH  
Just sitting. Looking at your chair. 

“Greg, do you have a moment?”  
“Everyone noticed. Even Sally felt bad for Sherlock,” Lestrade snapped uncharacteristically. “You don’t have to be his boyfriend but you should apologize for leading him on! You broke his heart!”  
“I know,” said John. “What can I do?”  
“Sherlock chose you. He loves you. Do you love him?”  
“Yes,” whispered John.  
“Then go get him back,” commanded Lestrade. 

John? SH  
John, Greg just called me. He said you were distraught. SH  
Said he might have been a little harsh with you. SH  
Sherlock, can we talk?  
About what? SH  
About us.  
I think it’s best we go back to being friends. I am in the process of deleting the past month from my mind palace. SH  
Wait!  
It’s incredibly difficult to remove. SH  
I love you, Sherlock. I’ve told Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, the cameras on a subway train so Mycroft would know, Harry, Sarah, Molly, even Sally and Anthea. Please come home.  
I’m there already. SH  
You are?  
Got tired of Mycroft. SH  
I’m on my way.  
John burst through the doors of 221B Baker Street. “Sherlock?” he yelled.  
And there was Sherlock, wearing one of his silk dressing gowns, puttering around the kitchen with a series of experiments. “I’m sorry,” said John. “I’ve been a prat. You’ve been wonderful.”  
Sherlock was biting his lip.  
“I love you! I’m your conductor of light! Give me one more chance, please!” begged John.  
“It has to be different this time.”  
“I know,” said John. “May I take you out to dinner?”  
Sherlock tried to resist the smile that threatened to cover his entire face as he pulled John into his lap.  
“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,” John mumbled into his chest. Sherlock ran his trembling hands through John’s hair.  
“Never leave,” John whispered to Sherlock. “I couldn’t bear it.”  
Sherlock hummed the gentle sound he made when he was happy.  
“No woman I’ve ever met could compare to you. I love you more than you could understand.”  
“More than I could understand?” asked Sherlock.  
“Well, maybe not,” said John breathlessly, leaning in to kiss Sherlock.


End file.
